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despatches announcing splendid victories, could only thank its self-appointed champions, and Petropoulakes rapidly retreated to Askypho, a sort of eagle's nest in the White Mountains. Here a body of 150 tried to desert, demoralization set in, and the three weeks' campaign closed abruptly by a capitulation, the terms of which illustrated Turkish cruelty on the part of Omer Nailé Pasha, to whom the surrender was made. Those terms were: “ The lives of the volunteers to be spared, their baggage and arms to be returned to them upon their landing in Greece, and their food and lodging to be furnished by the Turkish authorities until they reached their own shore !"
With this surrender the last pretence of an existing rebellion in Crete has vanished. The captured volunteers were brought back to their country by Hobart Pasha, who confused M. Bulgaris considerably — the damaging moral effect of marching the patriots, as liberated prisoners, through the streets of Athens, presenting itself—by asking him where they should be landed? The band of which these captives formed a part, was intended “to wrest Crete from the Ottomans or die"—to revivify the Cretan insurrection as the special envoy of the Athenians.
Simultaneous reports touching the Turkish fleet possessed a certain interest. The Ottoman admiral since the chase of the Enosis had been blockading the port of Syra, as, after promise that judiciary investigation should meet Hobart Pasha's complaints as to the deeds of the blockade-runner, the authorities had eventually refused to act. Unable then to obtain immediate examination, Hobart Pasha had entrusted his affair to the commander of the French steamer Le Forbyn, lying in the same port, as a superior officer of one of the protecting powers. A protest was addressed under date December 16th by M. Delyanni, Greek minister of foreign affairs, to the three protecting powers, in allusion to the Enosis affair. If not suggestive of Satan rebuking sin, the protest of the Greek foreign minister, addressed to the protecting powers in whose faces the Greek government had just snapped its fingers, when remonstrated with for hostile acts of the same nature as those which were the burden of M. Delyanni's complaint—was regarded as inconsistent and even ludicrous on the
part of a cabinet which had repulsed the advice of the powers now taken into confidence and in a certain sense appealed to; and for one who professed himself so superior to the ordinary principles of international law when obedience to them would hinder his own purposes, to invoke them literally in order to stigmatize an adversary, assuming the insignificant role of a political Robert Macaire.
Upon the meeting of the Conference, in which, as before remarked, M. Rangabé had but a consultive voice, that gentleman protested at his not having the same authority as Turkey, and, deaf to all persuasion, withdrew from the sitting, (the second, we believe,) and addressed a note to the deliberating body, declining to take any place therein except upon the same level with that granted Turkey. It was pointed out to M. Rangabé that Turkey had her seat as one of the signataries of the treaty of Paris in 1856, which treaty Greece did not sign, but M. Rangabé declared that the conference being called to settle difficulties between Turkey and Greece, if Turkey had a right to be present, Greece certainly had that same and as large a right. M. Rangabé's pretension was most plausible, and confounded for a time the assembled plenipotentiaries; but the reflection that they were met rather to protect Greece from the consequences of her refusal to subscribe to the Turkish ultimatum, to show her that she was wrong and to endeavor to stay the just hand of Turkey, soon restored equilibrium, and the business of the conference proceeded. Some outside supported M. Rangabé's claim—some amongst those who had condemned Greece; others declared that a ward in chancery might as well presume to occupy the judge's seat. But all blamed the advisers of King George, who, knowing before the conference met the position Greece would occupy therein, waited until the meeting to have her representative make his confusing protest.
The plenipotentiaries pursued their work without the presence of the Grecian representative, and it immediately became apparent that they disavowed any authority over the disputants, relying solely on the moral and political influence of the states they represented. The powers might endorse the Turkish ultimatumn, but if they did not, it would make no
change in the course of Turkey. They might formally declare that Greece was indisputably in the wrong, but as they were not prepared to say that Athens might be occupied by the Turk, Greece would not mend her ways.
On Saturday, January 16th, the conference, according to the Paris Constitutionnel, really closed its labors, and La France gives the text of the declaration of the plenipotentiaries, whose deliberation had been confined to the five points of the Turkish ultimatum. That declaration states that Turkey had ground to complain of a manifest violation of international law on the part of Greece, and that whatever might be her laws at home she was not to permit attacks against a neighboring state to be prepared on her territory. That her obligation is to prevent the arming in her ports of privateers like the Crete and Enosis. That she has no right to oppose the departure from her domain of Cretan refugees. On the fourth point of the ultimatum, Turkey having agreed to be governed by the decisions of the legal tribunals, and the fifth point being comprised in the other three, the declaration of the conference perfectly sustained the Turkish ultimatum. Turkey, in case Greece accepted the declaration, was to withdraw her ultimatum.
Greece was admonished by all the great powers, Russia included, that she had alienated from herself the sympathies of Europe by her course toward Turkey, and that in case of rupture she must provide for herself—for the powers among themselves gave sureties of good behavior one to another. The joint note of the conference thus became an express warning to the cabinet of King George, or was so considered by the public, that Turkey in executing reprisals, in the event of Greece refusing to adhere to the protocol of the conference, would be carrying ont the deliberate judgment of Europe.
Art. III.-1. Euvres complètes de P. J. DE BERANGER. 2 vols.
Paris. 1847. 2. Ma Biographie : Ouvrage Posthume de P. J. DE BERANGER.
Paris. 1857. 3. Songs of Béranger. Translated by the author of the Exciles of
Idria. London. 1837.
Much has been written, and little apparently understood, about following nature in literary and other art. The examples of Homer and Shakespeare are appealed to, and those writers of the renaissance school in Germany and elsewhere headed by Goethe. Nature, human and otherwise, has many manifestations, some poetical and others not. The Pre-Raphaelitism which would depict a toad or a cabbage-garden while neglecting the most beautiful landscape within view, is certainly not such an adherence to nature as to be entitled to our admiration. Yet the toad is fabled to have a jewel in its head, which is a poetical idea, and there is much in the habits and aspects of the animal which may suggest poetical thoughts. In treating of cabbages, it would not be necessary to allude to sauerkraut and cole-slaw; the growth of the vegetable, fed by the sunshine and the rain, and the human care and interest bestowed upon it, are themes worthy of song. ' In art, as in everything else, it is requisite to be true. Art deals not only with the higher truths, but with all that contain the element of beauty. This beauty doubtless resides, to a greater or less degree, in all things; yet it is not every poet who can make us perceive it in every object. Some things we are so accustomed to regard as unlovely that it is not safe for the poet to allude to them, because of the associations which we invariably attach to those objects. Yet, really, there is no distinction of truths for purposes of art. As God is one,
of art. As God is one, so is his emanation, which is beauty, the same everywhere. Some objects and conditions have more of this radiance than others. What constitutes the artist is the power to perceive and to depict real beauty. It is generally easier for him to understand and to represent the
soul of the simpler existences. If he knows the limitations of his genius, he will not attempt to deal with what is beyond his comprehension.
Béranger thus understood his genius, and his success was due to that knowledge, and to his honesty in accepting and acting upon it. He wrote from within, reproducing the impressions made upon him by external objects and by his own experiences. So far he was true, and his poems are real. He might have succeeded in fictitious representations of ideal passion, but he would not attempt it. It is here that he showed his strength and his greatness. We always think of him as following Molière's rule of judging of the excellence of his works, not by submitting them to a learned critic, but noting their effect when read to his illiterate old female attendant. Béranger, as well as Molière, knew that the scholar would compare the work submitted to his critical judgment with conventional standards of excellence with which he was already acquainted, and they knew that such a taste, formed by study, is quite likely to be vitiated. For a reliable standard they rightly judged that they could confidently appeal to the native instincts of untaught and unperverted humanity. Béranger is and will be a model for the study of those who wish to learn how to deal with things truthfully—to be genuine artists.
He is not a Shakespeare nor a Goethe, but he is as real in his department as either of those great singers. In an interview with the public censor which Béranger has recorded,* that official is reported as saying to him that “song-writers are in literature what fiddlers are in music." This characterization of the chansonnier the poet accepts and defends. We may properly consider him from the point of view which he has deliberately selected. We may picture to ourselves the modest violinist taking his place at the street-corner, hoping that his simple strains may please the common people, and draw from them the hearty applause which is all he covets. At first only the poor and uneducated slowly collect; then the more aristocratic and cultivated pause, compelled to listen to the
* Buiores, t. ii. p. 342. VOL. XVIII.NO. XXXVI. 17